In my quest to feel useful last week, I decided to tackle our garden. The beautiful summer weather had turned my manicured lines of day-lillies into a small jungle.
With help from my mother (who is over 70 years old!), I spent hours digging up, clipping and splitting day-lilly plants. It was physical work, do doubt, but it didn't seem too onorous.
...until the next morning. HOLY CRUMBS. I have never been so sore in my life from exercise.
This was no ordinary 'after burn' from a workout. This was brutal. I could barely walk, stand or lie down comfortably. The pain mocked the efforts of Tylenol and Advil.
For the first time, I stopped to consider that I might, might, actually have Fibromyalgia.
Before all of this crap started, I used to run regularly, work out at the gym and rock climb. There were times when it took days to get over some of my workouts, but those times were nothing like this.
Fast forward one week and I am moving much more easily, but I still HURT.
My garden, however, looks beautiful. Maybe this weekend I will plant some tulip bulbs...